11:30 pm. October 18, 2016
I just swallowed two ZzzQuil Nighttime Sleep-Aid liquicaps and I’m hoping I get to write my thoughts down for 15 minutes before the diphenhydramine starts kicking in. I think this whole “writing in the margins” thing is working out for me. I may not have all the hours in the day to write, but taking advantage of small windows of time to at least put my thoughts down on paper seems effortless and almost therapeutic.
Anyway, I had a bad day today. I had a quiz for my first class this morning (which went well, btw) and then we watched a film in my social psychology class afterwards. All seemed pretty well until around noontime. I went to internship right after my classes and the hours just started to trickle by ever so slowly. It was a slow slow day in the office and I was just not in the mood to work nor be confined in such a small space. I started chatting with my boss and supervisor, and questioned them about their dreams in life and they told me none of them feel as if they really love what they are doing, and it just made me think about what I really want to do in life. How many of these people, confined in these cold, white cubicles, inside these bureaucratic behemoth buildings actually enjoy their job? Do people really enjoy what they’re doing when they’re just another cog in a machine? Anyway, that conversation put me in such a contemplative mood, even when I was on my commute back to school.
I arrived back in school around 6pm to have dinner with my best friends, S and I. Now I know they are my best friends, but we really don’t have much in common, which is okay because spontaneity is great in friendships. And I know we are all flawed, but it’s just something that I noticed in them that whenever we sit down for dinner (and dinners together rarely happen because of our busy schedules) they always end up talking about other people’s businesses and lives. And I’m all for conversation, especially with people that mean a lot to me, but it just gets so tiring and toxic whenever they talk about the life of a friend’s friend or an acquaintance, and discuss their romantic lives (and even their sex lives) and it just bothers me so much because I really don’t give a fuck about those people. When I sit down for dinner with a good friend, I’m expecting a good conversation with them, and discussing other people’s lives just seems so pointless and meaningless to me. That’s just another potential good conversation reduced to gossip and I fucking hate it and I’m just so tired of pointless conversations. And I confronted my best friend in a joking manner about it, and they laughed at it but told me they got my point, but I just hate that they think it’s okay or they think I care or am interested hearing about the lives of people I don’t know and had no significant effect or bearing to my life? I frankly do not give a fuck about other people’s lives if it doesn’t concern me. At all. And I get that it’s so tempting to talk about people’s lives, but it just bothers me so much. I fucking hate it. I find it so small-minded, and the fact that this has been going on for the past few months just bothers me and I just snapped tonight, to the point that I was so upset that I actually went home crying.
Because every time I sit down for conversation, I have to mentally prepare myself and this could just be me ranting as an introvert and hermit, but I want good conversations when I know I’m interacting with people and my energy has to be drained to the last drop–at least I know it’s worth it because I’m actually thriving in the dialectics, but really? Discussing people’s lives who I don’t give a fuck about (because I am not friends with them and they are strangers to me) just doesn’t sum up and it just upsets me because I’m so tired of worthless conversations. And on the way home I was telling my best friend, I, about it and she seemed to get it but I am just so so upset. On the brighter side, at least I was able to tell them and be honest about it.
Anyway I got home around 9 pm and on the commute home, I stopped by a shady 7-11 to grab a coke because I felt my eyes drooping and I hate myself for it because I’ve cut off soda for almost 5 months but whatever. I was just so upset. I may sound like I’m overreacting, but bad conversations just affect me so much in a way that it messes with my mentality and spirals me into depression. I’m already having a hard time finding meaning in this life as I am and having meaningless conversations with the people closest to me just makes it worse, and affirms my belief that nothing really ever has meaning in this life. And I just hate it, because I know there’s nothing wrong with my best friends. It’s normal to talk about simple things, of the mundanities of life, and I’m starting to think that maybe I’m the problem, that I can’t adjust to other people and have difficulty connecting with them because I cannot relate to what they are talking about. But in my defense, I just want a conversation wherein I feel as if I am not violating someone else’s private life and really, discussing people’s lives over dinner is just fucking pointless and annoying, and I just feel so angry and upset that people do this. I’ve been scolding myself for the past hour thinking I am just overreacting, that I should be more patient with people, because you know, we can never escape small talk. Sometimes, people just want to talk about light, fun things and that’s fine, because life really is mundane and sometimes we just have to talk about the weather and the traffic and that’s fine, I just hate it when people start talking about other people’s lives specifically. That, per se, is not fine because people should stop being nosy fuckers and mind their own business.
It just drives me to the edge, because I fucking hate it. And I don’t know, I just feel so upset. I think I should distance myself from friendly lunches and dinners this next few weeks, because I realize the things people talk about usually put me in a bad or somber mood, especially when it’s gossip and I know I should adjust to others (and I always remind myself this!) but I really just have no interest in discussing other people’s lives. Really. I know I’m just going around in circles, but it upsets and depresses me so much because it’s all pointless information that I will never use, information that does not concern me and has no bearing to my life. I am just so upset to the point I had a breakdown when I got home because I am so tired of the pointless meaningless conversations, but I also think this is just my depression getting the best of me, to which I keep reminding myself to try harder everyday to be strong and it’s just so so difficult, but I really am trying. Really.